On Roads Less Traveled
by Firako-chan
Summary: The Thief Lord of Hajra, once a street rat named Roach, goes to visit a famous copper-haired oracle, never knowing that it will be the salvation of both the two of them and others, a pair of mages in the cold, distant empire of Namorn. AU, no real pairings, but strong Briar/Tris and Daja/Sandry friendships. Mildly dark.


The Thief Lord stood and watched the others in the small, ornately decorated room. At least that was what the priest had called it – a waiting room, but to him, any room this small felt more like a holding cell. The others, three men and one women were all dressed very finely, covering their faces with smooth, painted masks – of course it would not do for these nobles to be identified in such a place. His own face was uncovered, but that itself was its own form of disguise. The woman was clearly with one of the men, but the others had come alone, like him. Each of them had come for the same reason. They wanted to see the oracle.

The unmasked man couldn't remember when he first hearing accounts of this girl – this woman. Years ago, at least. The stories were not the kind of thing that a 12 year old boy normally paid any attention to – but he hadn't been a normal boy, had he? He had still gone by Roach then – the kind of name the Thief Lord chose for the street rats to reinforce their inferiority, and the name he still thought of himself as. The girl, who was said to be his age, was supposed to have extraordinary visionary powers along with her youth and strange looks. Not pretty – but with skin, cold like porcelain, and a halo of copper-colored hair. She must be from somewhere in the North, he mused to himself, as no one in Sotat had hair or skin like that.

But here he was, dressed as richly as any of these bags – and with his face showing, to boot. Not bad for a kid who had been caught three times a thief and sent to the docks at age 10. Anyone would think he was blessed by the gods, in light of the suspiciously unusual events that had started with his unheard of escape back into the city, and culminated in his ascension as Thief Lord. No one would have imagined such a man seeking the help of the oracle.

No one knew of the shadows that haunted him. It had started soon after his escape from the docks – when long strands of seaweed had risen from the ocean to strangle the guards, allowing the escape of 100 convict workers back into the city - among them a young boy named Roach. Since then, between miraculous aid from green friends of almost every kind, there had been a darker force at work – seeming always to be following, lurking – never visible, except when choosing to endanger the life of Roach or his friends.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted when a priest stepped into the room, with a beard that hung to the floor, and dressed as richly as those gathered, beckoning the three occupants to follow him. They did follow, single-file, through a narrow, curving hallway, adorned with marble statues and gold lamps. Finally, they stopped, in front of a pair of solid wooden doors, made of some dark, heavy wood, wide enough to permit 10 to pass through simultaneously, and tall enough to admit one of those long-necked horses in the menagerie – without stooping.

The priest kneeled, careful not to dirty the rich brocade of his purple and crimson robes, and recited a loud, long incantation to some god that neither the unmasked man, nor his masked companions, truthfully, cared a bit about. The oracle's powers, rumors said, did not seem to favor the pious over the non-believers. If you paid the coin required, you would find what you sought.

As the priest rose, the doors creaked open slowly, aided by no visible device. All four followed the priest into a great rotunda. A large oculus in the center of the painted ceiling left the cavernous room open to the elements, and allowed a single shaft of light, though the day was cloudy, to fall on a figure in the center of the room.

As they moved closer to the center, Roach got a better look at the one he presumed to be the famed oracle. She was pale, just as he had heard, and draped in an excess of white fabric and gold jewelry. The rumors about her looks were not untrue – she was not pretty, and she had an other-worldly look to her – perhaps stemming from her copper hair, or the way her long nose protuded beyond her sunken cheeks. Her eyes were a steely-gray, he noticed, as they approached a ring of sand that surrounded the oracle, and although they seemed unfocused, as she swiveled her head to observe those that would seek her prophecy, he thought he saw a flash in them – like heat lightning streaking across a stormy gray sky – as they passed over him.

"Him first," she croaked, pointing to Roach, and surprising all of them with the harsh matter-of-factness of her voice.

Knowing the procedure, he stepped inside the ring of sand as wind began to tug at his clothing, The wind grew stronger still, and whipped up a thick cloud of sand behind him, obscuring him from the view of the priest and the others, yet as he stepped up on the low platform with the oracle, the air was completely still.

"You are the thief lord," she said as he came nearer, not as hoarsely as she had first spoken, but still very shortly.

"Yes," he replied, not sure of what would happen next. Would she know his trouble? Or would he need to explain his situation?

"I have seen the things that follow you. Dark shadows. Shades with minds of their own who cause accidents to befall those around you."

Roach breathed a sigh of relief, welcoming some indication, at least, that he was not crazy, but his relief was premature.

"If you do not do as I say, they will get you," the oracle continued.

"And they'll kill me?"

"Everyone dies," she growled – in a tone, and with a look that strongly implied that death was not the worst fate that could befall a man.

"Then tell me what I can do," Roach said, a touch of pleading in his voice. He was actually a bit scared, despite himself, and for once, his glib tongue failed him.

"You are the thief lord. You must steal," she paused, a hitch in her voice, "me," she whispered, looking into his eyes for the first time. "You must steal me. Or there will be disaster for us both. Come tonight, when the moon is highest. But take care, the people here will not let me leave so easily."

"Go now!" she said, louder this time, "go and do as I say."

The wind died very suddenly, and the sand suspended in the air fell to the ground in an instant. Roach stumbled back, beyond the ring of sand and turned to pass through the great wooden doors, past the antechamber where he had waited, and outside the temple itself. He was confused, but not conflicted; he knew, although he did not know how he knew, that he would do as the oracle said.

A/N: Standard disclaimers apply. This is, obviously, AU. As you can see, it's a Niko-never-showed-up-verse, but you'll learn more about that, later. You'll learn more about everything later, actually. For now it's the Briar and Tris show, but Sandry and Daja will both show up (in Namorn) later. Also, no intra-circle romance, and probably only a very small amount of romance at all. This verse is not a particularly happy place.


End file.
